


Something Right

by jinlin5



Series: Husbands and Shit [7]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angry Ian Gallagher, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, F/F, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Future Fic, Ian Gallagher Loves Mickey Milkovich, M/M, Married Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Mickey Milkovich Loves Ian Gallagher, Original Character(s), Parents Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, domestic angst, ian and mickey being imperfect but loving parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:29:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28209096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinlin5/pseuds/jinlin5
Summary: Ian makes eye contact with his daughter, and she shrinks under his gaze.“Have a seat.” He entones.Moni hangs her head and does as she’s told- it’s not her strong suit, but she’s pretty sure she doesn’t want to make her dad any more furious than he already clearly is, if only to prevent his head from literally imploding in on itself. She plops herself down in the seat and folds her arms across her chest on instinct, watching as Ian circles around silently until he’s standing in front of her, in the middle of the kitchen, as if he’s on stage.Pops always says Dad is dramatic, Moni muses, but wisely, she refrains from cracking a smile at the thought._________________________________________________________________Ian discovers what Moni has been doing behind his back, and flips out before he can think it through. Mickey is the one who has to put out the fire and make things right between his husband and daughter.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Husbands and Shit [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1713814
Comments: 10
Kudos: 121





	Something Right

**Author's Note:**

> A little story I dreamed up because I couldn't stop thinking about Moni as a teenager, and the different ways that Mickey and Ian would have learned how to parent her over the years. This is a continuation of my Gallavich parenting saga (I plan on writing the origin story of how Moni came into their lives sooner than later)!
> 
> Rated M for canon typical language and themes 
> 
> Many thanks to camnoelgallavich for being the best beta ever, as always <3
> 
> Enjoy! <3

“Monica?! Get your ass down here! You better have a good explanation for this shit!”

Moni freezes dead in her tracks when she hears Ian’s voice, and slides one of her headphones off of her ear, just in time to hear the tail end of the command echo from downstairs. 

_ Shit, he sounds pissed. _ She thinks, and she knows exactly what it’s about, too. She had known it would catch up to her, but she’d been ignoring that eventuality because it had just been so much goddamn  _ fun _ .

Momentarily, Moni contemplates escaping. Crawling across her bed, propping open her tiny bedroom window and climbing through. She’s pretty certain she could reach the scrawny tree branch that hangs close to the house- the one her Pops is always saying he’s going to get around to chopping down so it doesn’t fuck up their roof when the next storm blows through the windy city. Even if she couldn’t manage it, Moni figures the drop from the second floor isn’t actually that far down. So what if she busts an ankle? She’s positive it’s preferable to whatever awaits her downstairs. 

“Monica! I know you can hear me. Get down here. Now.” 

Moni shuts her eyes tightly and puffs her cheeks out as she blows a gust of air out from her lungs. She knows she has to face the music. It’s unavoidable now. Slipping her headphones completely off of her ears and dropping them onto her comforter, she swings her legs over the side of the bed and hears the soft impact of her sock covered feet hitting the hardwood. She takes leisurely strides towards the closed door of her room, enjoying what could potentially be her last moments on this earth- alive at least. When she makes it to her door and creaks it open it sounds more like the hinges of a coffin closing, sealing her fate. 

Out in the hallway, Moni calls out to him. 

“What’s up, dad?” She forces a lighthearted tone, hoping to soften the blow. 

There’s a moment of silence, before he answers. “You know exactly what’s up.” Ian’s answer is ominous, and Moni cringes because she can literally hear him trying to exercise restraint- something he only does when his blood is  _ boiling _ .

At the top of the staircase, Moni grits her teeth and psyches herself up before poking her head into the open space, beaming an all too bright smile down at her father. He looks absolutely  _ incensed-  _ his face is almost the same shade of red as his hair, and his neatly groomed beard is doing a shitty job of covering it up. He’s poised at the bottom of the staircase, gripping the railing with one hand like he’s trying to choke it out, and the other hand is planted on his hip. Moni can’t remember the last time he looked so angry.  _ Fuck my life _ , she groans internally.

“Everything okay?” Moni asks innocently, proud that her voice doesn’t shake. She’s never been scared of either of her fathers- despite her families’ combined _ reputations _ . But still, the deadly look in her Dad’s eye makes her second guess whether or not she should be frightened. 

Moni watches his nostrils flare. “I just got off the phone with your school.” Ian states, his voice deceptively monotone. Moni’s heart sinks to the bottom of her stomach.  _ Fuck fuck fuck _ .

“Oh yeah?” She croaks out.

“Yeah,” Ian hisses, and then surprises his daughter by swiveling around suddenly and taking a few steps away from the base of the stairs. “Come here. Now.” He demands.

Moni swallows dryly. She knows she has no choice- yet the thought of trying out her impromptu escape route seems as tantalizing as ever. With a sigh, she resigns herself, carefully creeping down the stairs and trailing behind her father, into the kitchen. When she enters, she pauses, watching him approach their moderately sized kitchen table and yank one of the four wooden chairs away from it, turning it so that it faces towards the doorway.

Ian makes eye contact with his daughter, and she shrinks under his gaze. 

“Have a seat.” He intones. 

Moni hangs her head and does as she’s told- it’s not her strong suit, but she’s pretty sure she doesn’t want to make her dad any more furious than he already clearly is, if only to prevent his head from literally imploding in on itself. She plops herself down in the seat and folds her arms across her chest on instinct, watching as Ian circles around silently until he’s standing in front of her, in the middle of the kitchen, as if he’s on stage. 

_ Pops always says Dad is dramatic _ , Moni muses, but wisely, she refrains from cracking a smile at the thought.

Ian stares at his daughter for a few moments, mouth clamped tightly shut, eyes flicking back and forth like crazy- as if he’s trying to gather up his thoughts into something coherent. Finally, just when Moni thinks he’s getting ready to open his mouth and really let her have it, his head drops forward, and he pinches the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. He massages the spot for a moment, before his hand migrates down to his chin, combing his fingers through his coarse ginger facial hair. Moni shifts in her seat, feeling more than a little uncomfortable. The only thing worse than being yelled at is  _ waiting _ to be yelled at. The anticipation is just too much. 

After a lifetime, Ian speaks. “Two weeks, Moni?” He sounds more disappointed than anything, and it catches Moni completely by surprise. She says nothing, just stares at him with wide, unblinking eyes. When she eventually gets tired of the staring contest, she forces something out of her mouth. 

“What are you-” 

“She said you haven’t attended a class into two weeks,” Ian interrupts her and finally elaborates, as if she didn’t know exactly what he was referring to. “That’s what your  _ principal _ just told me over the phone. Ya know, your principal - Mrs. Juarez? Oh wait, you probably don’t remember her name because you haven’t been to school  _ in two fucking weeks _ apparently!” His voice raises considerably at the end of the sentence, booming in the small kitchen. 

Moni flinches, but covers it up nicely by brushing a few stray curls away from her face- the ones that hadn’t quite managed to make it into her ponytail. Still, she doesn’t say anything, but Ian doesn’t notice, because he’s not done. 

“What is going  _ on _ with you!?” Ian questions in exasperation, and he’s started pacing back and forth, from the oven to the fridge, only a few steps in each direction. Moni’s a captive audience, and she simply watches him go. “So, you’ve been leaving the house every morning,  _ pretending _ like you’re going to school! You’ve been  _ lying _ to your Pops and me, telling us a load of horseshit about how your day’s been going. And you’ve been making everything up?!” Ian turns to her and throws his arms out, like he’s waiting for her to throw out an explanation. “Care to explain?” He prompts. 

Moni’s eyes shift to her feet, and she kicks her legs, scuffing the floor with her mismatched socks. “My grades are fine,” She shrugs, and she hates how small her voice sounds. “I can afford to skip a few classes. It’s not that big of a deal, Dad.” The minute she says it, she wishes she hadn’t, because Ian looks like he’s going to burst a major blood vessel. 

“First of all, your grades aren’t  _ fine _ , they’re fucking  _ fantastic _ !” Ian crows. It’s technically a compliment, but the delivery makes it sound like anything but. “Second of all, they sure as hell aren’t gonna stay that way, if you don’t go to class!” He runs out of air and takes a deep breath, filling his lungs before continuing. “Third of all, just because you’re good at school doesn’t mean you just get to decide to not go! That’s not how it works, Moni, especially not nowadays. First, it’s a call from the principal. Then, next thing you know, the truancy officers are pounding on our front door and fining us a shitload of money. Money we don’t have, by the way!” 

Moni feels herself shutting down as she glares at the floor. Her dad obviously doesn’t get it. Which she finds very hypocritical, to say they least. She’s heard more than a few stories from her aunts and uncles- even from her Pops- detailing the things her dad used to get up to at her age. She never really got the full story, but she definitely remembers something about a stolen identity, and hotwiring a helicopter- things that sound much more severe than skipping out on a few weeks of school. 

“‘ _ S fucking stupid _ ,” Moni mumbles under her breath- her second mistake in as many minutes. 

“What was that?” Ian takes an exaggerated step closer to her and leans in, cupping his hand around the shell of her ear. 

Moni cracks. “I said, it’s fucking stupid! Alright?” She barks, and Ian back peddles a little, narrowing his eyes at his head-strong daughter.

“Can you be a little more specific?” Ian prods her sarcastically, foldings his arms against his chest, mirroring Moni. “What’s  _ fucking stupid _ ?”

“School,” Moni huffs, her face starting to heat up. “I’ve been going for, what, eleven years? Twelve, if you count pre-school. Then I don’t show up for  _ two weeks  _ and it’s like some sort of national emergency and that bitch of a principal has to snitch on me? It’s  _ bullshit _ .”

“That’s her job, Moni!” Ian retorts, fingers digging into his own bicep. “It’s in her literal job description to give a shit when her students stop attending classes. The only thing that’s  _ bullshit  _ is that you don’t seem to think it’s a big deal!” Ian sighs. He’s feeling the strain of laying into Moni. 

It’s not like he enjoys it. He thinks it might be the worst part of parenting, having to discipline them, second only to have to watch them outgrow their innocence. Not that Moni had ever been all that innocent. She’d been a handful from the moment she entered the terrible twos, but neither Ian or Mickey would have traded her for the fucking world. 

Ian looks at her now, frustrated and embarrassed, her pretty face scrunched up into a scowl. Even though they aren’t related through blood, all he can see is a sixteen year old version of his husband sitting there- trying to fool the world into thinking he’s tough when he’s actually scared shitless. The thought makes Ian’s stomach twist into a knot. He’s not a perfect parent, but he prides himself on the fact that Moni’s grown up with the love he’d always had from his family- the love Mickey hadn’t truly experienced until he became an official Gallagher nearly two decades ago. 

Maybe he needs to shake up his approach. 

Ian doesn’t move from where he’s standing, but he uncrosses his arms. It’s a subtle move, but he feels some of the pent up tension instantly slip away. “Can you at least explain to me why you haven’t been going?” He pleads, and his voice is at least a few octaves lower than it had been. “Where have you been? Hm?” 

Moni notices the shift in his tone immediately, and it causes her to look up from the ground and finally meet his gaze. She uncrosses her arms as well, almost subconsciously, and purses her lips like she’s thinking about the best way to respond to the question. “You remember my friend Nadia?” Moni asks, and when she doesn’t see recognition in Ian’s eyes, she continues. “She’s been over a few times. She’s the one with all the piercings.” 

Ian nods. He vaguely remembers seeing a girl that fit that description sitting on his couch, watching his tv, eating his food, not that long ago. He and Mickey have never been very particular about Moni’s choice in friends- as long as they didn’t look like drug dealers or human traffickers, they generally trusted their daughters' judgement. Besides, Yevgeny always seemed to keep tabs on her whereabouts, watching over his little sister in a passive but present way. Speaking of, Ian finds it strange that their son hadn’t picked up on the fact that Moni was playing hooky- it’s very unlike him to not come clean about something like that if he was aware of it. 

“Yeah, I remember.” Ian responds wearily, “what about her?” 

Moni shrugs. “She’s been picking me up outside of the school every morning. She’s not really doing so well in class, so she doesn’t bother to show up. We mostly spend the day at the mall or at her place. Nadia’s mom isn’t home much.” She divulges just enough information without giving away more than necessary. Moni already knows her dad’s not going to be happy about it- no point in mentioning that she smoked her first cigarette with Nadia only a week ago, or that Nadia’s creepy brother had been hanging around when they would chill out at her house- staring at her like a creep and making fucking nasty comments. 

“Oh yeah?” Ian raises his eyebrows, and he can’t help it- the anger welling up inside of him is threatening to burst. “Well I hope you had a lot of fun, kid. Cuz this shit ends now. No skipping classes- your Pops and I are gonna be dropping you off at school in the morning and picking you up at the end of the day, even if we gotta leave work to do it!” Ian watches Moni’s face fall, and takes a deep breath before dealing the finishing blow. “And you can forget about Nadia setting foot in this fuckin’ house ever again.” 

“Dad!” Moni jumps up from her chair, her heart in her throat. “What the fuck! You can’t just-”

“Ever! Again!” Ian punctuates each word by taking a step closer to Moni, until they are inches apart, and he can see the tears shining in his daughters blue eyes. He almost breaks at the sight, feeling like his insides might just cave in. His expression remains etched in stone, however- he knows if he gives up the upper hand, she won’t take him seriously. And he’s dead serious. 

Just as Moni looks like she’s about to crumble into tears, the sound of the front door being kicked open and cracking against the wall slices through the tense silence.

“Christ, Yev!” They hear Mickey exclaim, and both father and daughter turn to face the main entrance of the house. Mickey and Yevgeny are clambering through the doorway, their arms full as they attempt to stamp the slush off of their boots on the crooked doormat. “Can you leave the door on it’s fuckin’ hinges maybe?” Mickey teases his son as he kicks the door closed behind them. Yev laughs, hefting the two full buckets of KFC he’s got cradled in his arms a bit higher so he doesn’t accidently drop them. 

“Shit, sorry Pops,” Yevgeny apologizes half heartedly. “Next time, I guess just don’t oil them so well, and we won’t have a problem.” It’s Yevgeny who notices his sister and his dad standing in the middle of the kitchen, and although it strikes him as a little odd, he doesn’t really pay it any attention. “See they are home! Told ya Dad didn’t work tonight.” He says to Mickey as he kicks off his boots, and starts to head towards the kitchen with the food. 

“Well I can’t keep track of his goddamn schedule all the time,” Mickey huffs, almost to himself, discarding his own boots on the mat to drip dry and following Yevgeny’s lead with the copious bags of groceries he’s got swinging in both hands.

“Hope you guys are hungry, cuz we’ve got-” Yevgeny stops mid-sentence when he makes it past the threshold, as if he just stepped foot onto a hidden minefield. The tension in the room is apparently quite palpable, and Ian and Moni find themselves being stared at in confusion as Yevgeny slowly lowers the buckets of chicken onto the counter beside him. 

Mickey nearly crashes into Yevgeny’s back, and has to step around him to see what’s going on, instantly annoyed by the inches of height his son has on him. “The hell are you-” Mickey furrows his eyebrows as he sees his husband and his daughter staring back at him, looking like someone fucking  _ died _ .

“‘S there some sorta family meeting we didn’t get the memo about?” Mickey jokes, but when neither Ian nor Moni laughs, he clues in that something serious might actually be happening. “Jesus, you two. What’s with the long faces? Somebody we know get robbed or shot?” Still no reaction. He attempts humor one last time. “All of the above?” 

Ian is the first to break. “Our kid here was just explaining to me why she hasn’t attended a single class in two weeks.” He states coldly.

Mickey’s confusion only increases. He looks between Ian and Moni again, slower this time. “The fuck are you talking about?” He says finally. 

Ian closes his eyes and sucks a deep breath through his nostrils, letting it out through his mouth. He’s trying not to let his frustration out on Mickey, who is as obviously unaware of the situation as Ian was only half an hour ago. 

“I got a call. From the principal at her school. She said Moni’s been skipping classes. Hasn’t been listed in attendance in any of ‘em for two weeks.” Ian gives Moni a pointed look, before returning his gaze back to Mickey. “Apparently it all has something to do with some kid named  _ Nadia  _ who’s been encouraging this shit.”

Mickey slowly set the grocery bags down on to the floor beside him, taking in the new information which had been rapidly heaped upon him. “Interesting…” He hums cryptically. 

Yevgeny seems frozen in his spot, but Ian notices his eyes moving, and catches a shared look between his son and daughter that sets alarm bells off in his mind. 

“You know anything about this?” Ian addresses Yevgeny, who shifts from foot to foot, looking very uneasy.

“Erm… maybe a little.” Yevgeny answers quietly, flashing his little sister an apologetic look. 

For some reason, the exchange represents the final nail in the coffin for Moni. The waterworks begin, and thick rivulets of tears slide down her flushed cheeks each time she blinks. “I’m so done!” She wails, stomping towards her brother and shoulder checking him out of the way harshly. “Thanks for fucking nothing, dickface!” She sobs as she passes. 

The three men just let her go, even when she shoves her feet into her snow boots and heads straight out the front door- the sound of it’s slam makes Yevgeny flinch, yet his fathers seem unaffected, eyes locked with one another in silent communication. They all know she can’t go far. It’s the middle of winter in Chicago, she didn’t bother to throw on a jacket and Ian’s pretty sure she didn’t bring change for the bus. 

Mickey’s slightly concerned that his husband looks ready to boil over, and if he clenches his jaw any tighter he’s bound to crack his own teeth like sugar glass. When the reverberation of the slamming door finally fades, Ian turns to address his son. 

“Yevgeny! You knew about this? And you didn’t think to let us know?!” Ian leans against the counter. 

Yevgeny runs a hand through his dirty-blond hair and picks up a drumstick from one of the KFC buckets, taking a bite before responding. “She asked me not to.” He shrugs. 

Ian’s eye is practically twitching. “She asked you not to!? A sixteen year old girl starts skipping class and running the streets with some random fuckin’ kid, and you actually _ listened  _ when she asked you not to tell her parents? What the hell, Yev?!” 

Yevgeny swallows takes another bite. “Like you just said,” His voice is muffled by food, “She’s sixteen. She’s got a brain. She makes her own decisions and mistakes now. Besides, I knew you were gonna find out sooner than later anyway.”

“Sixteen year olds are fucking stupid!” Ian seeths, “You can’t just let them do whatever the hell they want! Moni needs to be protected, and as her older brother, it’s your job to-” 

Mickey decides enough is enough, and he steps in between his husband and his son, holding up a hand to silence Ian, like he’s trying to take an unbroken horse. “‘Ey! Ian! Fuckin’ take a breath man!” 

Ian’s mouth gapes momentarily before clamping shut, and he focuses on Mickey, who is steadily moving towards him until his palm rests in the middle of Ian’s chest. And he does breathe in, a big gulping breath- Mickey feels the rise and fall of under his touch. After a few more breaths just like that, Mickey glances over his shoulder at Yevgeny, who is still nonchalantly eating chicken and watching his parents do their thing. 

“You mind given’ us a minute, Yev?” Mickey asks evenly, and Yevgeny nods his head, scooping up one of the buckets and escaping the kitchen with it.

The minute Yevgeny is out of the room, Mickey uses the pads of his fingers to give Ian’s chest a little shove, breaking the spell by pushing Ian back no more than an inch. As if it restarts his heart, Ian blinks and shakes his head in confusion. 

“Why did you-” 

“Look I know you’re pissed off but you can’t take that shit out on Yev.” Mickey reprimands him and Ian can’t fucking believe his ears. 

“Mick, you’re really gonna defend them?” Ian gasps. 

“Fuck no, man! Moni’s in some deep shit, and of course Yev should have said something.” Mickey sucks his teeth and shrugs. “I also get why he didn’t. You know what snitches get…” 

Ian rolls his eyes and groans in frustration, putting more of his weight on the counter. “This isn’t fucking funny, Mick. Our daughter has been lying to our faces every day for two weeks straight, and we don’t actually know where the hell she’s been or what she’d been doing, and-” 

“Yeah! You said all that before,” Mickey points to the chair in the middle of the floor, still turned towards the doorway. “But she’s not gonna listen to shit all you say if you sit her down like she’s in an interrogation room and turn the heat up on her. Jesus, you might as well have dragged in a lamp and shone that shit right in her face.”

Ian sighs, the fight escaping him, and he steps away from the counter and plunks himself right down in his own interrogation chair, looking boneless. 

Mickey can sympathize. He and Ian have been tag-teaming the parenting gig for what feels like a lifetime, and he knows it’s not easy. He knows his husband has a stressful job, and sometimes things get the best of him. Mickey’s eyes soften and he skirts around the back of the chair, laying both hands on Ian’s shoulders. He begins kneading, digging his fingers and the heels of his hands into the tension, and Ian practically melts- sinking lower into the chair as a whining gust of air escapes him. 

“You remember the type of insane shit we used to get into at her age?” Mickey says quietly, after a few minutes of rubbing his thumbs in tight circles. “Pretty sure I’d dropped out and been to juvie about three times by my sixteenth birthday.” It might be a slight exaggeration, but not much. 

Mickey sees the back of Ian’s head shake. “That’s not a fair comparison and you know it.” Ian growls. “Terry was basically running a fucking criminal empire, and he didn’t give a shit if his kids lived or died. And I-” He loses his words for a moment before finding them again. “I ran away and did what I did because my head wasn’t on straight, and my heart was broken.” 

Mickey nods as he digs his elbow into the spot between his husband’s shoulder blades. He remembers. He was the reason for the heartbreak, after all. 

“Moni-  _ urgh- _ hasn’t had to deal with any of that,” Ian bows forward slightly and grunts as Mickey really goes to town. “She’s had such an easy life. And she’s so fucking smart- I just don’t understand…” He trails off. 

Mickey scoffs. “Listen, I don’t like that she’s been skippin’ school either. But don’t make it sound worse than it is. She was playing hooky, not dealin’ blow and sellin’ her ass on the corner.” 

Ian snaps his head around to glare at Mickey. “Don’t even fuckin’ joke about that.” He warns. 

Mickey chuckles. “Okay fine. All I’m sayin’ is, we should count ourselves lucky. I’d hate to see your reaction if she actually did something illegal.” He bends forward and drops a kiss onto the top of Ian’s head. “You’re gettin’ too old to be all worked up like that.” 

Ian somehow refrains himself from reminding Mickey that he’s older by two years. “Maybe I fucked up.” Ian muses defeatedly. “It was just so embarrassing to get that call. Especially since I didn’t have an explanation - her principal probably thought I was such a shitty parent for not knowing where she was.” 

Mickey shakes his head, slaps Ian on the back, circling back around to face him. “Shut up man. Nobody with a brain between their ears would dare to call you a shitty parent. We know what shitty parents look like, don’t we?” 

Ian looks up at his husband, and eventually he nods. 

“That’s right.” Mickey begins to back away from him, towards the doorway to the kitchen. “Now one of us should probably go get her. It’s only like forty degrees out there and it’ll be dark soon.” 

Ian picks himself up from the chair and follows Mickey to the front door, where Mickey’s already stepping into his boots. 

“Lemme go with you.” Ian pries open the folding door of the hall closet and begins to fish for his coat. 

Mickey shrugs into his own oversized winter jacket, which he’d draped over the disorganized shoe rack earlier. “Nah. Lemme handle this one, alright?”

Ian eyes his husband wordlessly and eventually nods in agreement. “Alright,” he concedes, dragging out Moni’s coat from the closet instead of his own and tossing it to Mickey. “Just- tell her I love her.” 

Mickey catches the coat swiftly and throws it over his shoulder, yanking open the door and stepping out onto their small porch- into the narrow pathway they’d excavated in the snow. 

“She knows.” Mickey states simply, and closes the door behind him. 

  
  


He finds her only two blocks away, which is even closer than he thought she’d be. 

When Mickey rounds the corner, he sees his daughter sitting on the stoop of an abandoned apartment building, in front of the boarded up front door and the smashed out windows- shivering against the cold, knees tucked almost to her chin. 

He watches her for just a minute, and he can see that Moni’s got a cigarette clamped between her fingers. She’s holding it like someone who doesn’t know how to smoke one- loosely and like it’s going to burst into flames. She looks so fucking tiny, he notices, nearly swallowed up by the overhang of the rundown building. Mickey gets why Ian wants to protect her so much, he really does. Every fiber of his being screams to run over, scoop her up and lock her in her room forever. He’s learned a thing or two over the years though, and he thinks he understands how badly that would backfire. 

Instead, Mickey approaches her slowly, scuffing his boots along the ice sidewalk and making enough noise that she lifts her head to see him coming. She looks surprised for a moment, that it’s him. Moni glances down at the cigarette in her hand, but doesn’t try to put it out. 

When he’s a few feet from her, Mickey stops. They stare at each other for a long moment, and Mickey can clearly see that her eyes are swollen from crying. She takes a defiant drag from the cigarette- Mickey can barely stifle a laugh when she nearly chokes on the smoke she’s inhaled. 

“Hey.” Mickey says eventually, shoving his hands in his pocket. 

“Hey.” Moni responds- a mixture of crystallized air and smoke billows from her mouth. 

“You know this is a crack house, right?” Mickey inquires, planting his boot onto the first step and gesturing to the monstrosity behind her. 

Moni shrugs as Mickey takes the rest of the creaky steps. “Yeah. So what?”

Mickey drapes her coat over her shoulders and takes a seat beside her. “So, are you tryna get shanked by a crackhead?” He questions earnestly. 

Moni grunts and brings the cigarette up to her lips, but Mickey can tell she doesn’t breath in. “Might as well. Dad already thinks my life’s going downhill just cuz I skipped a few stupid days of school.” She grumbles. 

Mickey can’t help but fucking smile. He shakes his head and reaches in front of her to snatch the cigarette out of her hands. “When’d you start smokin’?” He asks, pulling it halfway to the filter in one drag before crushing it out in a little patch of snow beside him. Moni doesn’t even resist- she actually looks a bit relieved when he takes it away from her. 

“Dunno,” She grabs both sides of her coat and tightens the downy fabric around her shoulders, “a little while ago.” It’s another lie. She does know. Nadia bought her a pack when they were out skipping because Moni had told her that she smoked. She knew it was probably obvious to Nadia that she didn’t, but Moni hadn’t wanted to seem like a little bitch. “You’re gonna tell Dad, aren’t you?” 

Mickey snorts, turning his head to blow out a cloud of smoke away from them. “Fuck no!” He chuckles. “He ain’t gotta know  _ everything _ all the time.”

This actually manages to pull a snicker out of Moni, but it quickly peters out into nothing. They sit once again in silence, and Mickey can practically see his daughter's mind working overtime to figure out why she’s not being torn into. 

“So you’ve been ditchin’ classes, huh?” Mickey poses the question finally, speaking out into the street instead of  _ at _ her. 

Moni squints into the sun, which is setting behind the outline of the city in the distance, casting everything around them in an amber hue. “Yeah.”

Mickey sees that he’s going to have to prompt her a little more into speaking- the girl he’d once nicknamed “ _ Motor-Mouth Moni _ ” is now completely clammed up. 

“What’s the story with this Nadia chick?” 

Mickey sees the question hits a nerve, and Moni turns to look at him quickly. “She’s just a friend.” She insists, which Mickey thinks is an odd way to phrase it. 

“Okay, well what’s so fuckin’ special about this  _ friend _ that you’re blowing off school for her?” Mickey tries to dig a little deeper. He’ll never compose literary masterpieces, but he knows how to get info out of someone when he needs to. 

Moni chews at her chapped lips, and for a while Mickey thinks she’s not going to answer. Until she does. 

“Nadia’s mom works at the Rug and Tug over on Michigan Ave.” Moni’s eyes flick down to her boots. “Ya know, the massage parlor where they-“ 

“Yeah I know, kid,” Mickey interrupts before he’s forced to hear something he doesn’t want to come out of his daughters mouth. “I know what you mean.” 

Moni brings her knees up even closer to her chest, like she’s trying to fold in on herself and disappear. “Yeah well anyway, she’s never home and when she is all she does is shoot up. Nadia doesn’t really like being home cuz her Mom’s boyfriend’s always got his random friends over, and she’s not so great at school. So I’ve just been…” She pauses, searching for the words. “Keeping her company, I guess. All the teachers treat her like she’s a fuckin’ idiot, and the guys in our grade say some really mean shit about her mom, too. It’s bullshit.” 

Mickey takes it all in, cracking his knuckles and inspecting the slightly faded letter on each finger. What Moni is describing sounds unsettlingly familiar, and Mickey thinks he understands more than Moni will ever know. 

“You’re right. That does sound like some grade A bullshit,” Mickey concedes, before making an attempt at flipping the script. “But just cuz she asks you to-“ 

“She never asked me to skip!” Moni exclaims adamantly, and the suddenness of it takes them both off guard. “I offered to do it. To make her feel less shitty and alone. She’s really great, and nice, and she fuckin’ listens to me. She draws stuff too- and she’s actually really good at it. But nobody cares because she doesn’t know what a dumbass polynomial is.” 

Mickey blinks. He doesn’t really know what a polynomial is either, much less what the hell to do with it. But when Moni looks at him, and he sees the expression on her face- Mickey knows he’s seen that shit before, about a million times. He used to know a gangly floppy haired redhead who wore that look twenty four seven when Mickey was around. 

Suddenly everything clicks. 

Mickey scratches the stubble on his cheeks- it’s started to go a bit salt and pepper but Ian has yet to mention it, which Mickey thinks is rather wise of him. “You really like this girl, huh?” Mickey murmurs. 

Moni’s eyes go wide and her mouth drops open. Mickey’s sure if her cheeks and nose weren’t already bright red because of the cold she would be blushing like crazy. “Uh… yeah, I do.” She admits finally, and adds quietly, “She’s kinda amazing.” 

Mickey breathes deeply and slides a bit closer to his daughter, wrapping his arm around her shoulders with little resistance. She seems grateful for the added warmth. 

“Listen kiddo.” Mickey begins. “I know you wanna protect her. I get it. But Dad’s right. You have to go to school.” 

Moni looks like she’s about to protest, but Mickey beats her to the punch. 

“You’re a sophomore right? That’s what they call tenth graders?” Mickey asks. She nods. “Right, well you’ve only got two more years before you graduate, and trust me, if you give up now you’re gonna be kickin’ yourself wishin’ you had stuck it out. Shits a whole lot harder without that diploma.” 

Moni fiddles with her bootlaces, which are only half tied. “Skipping for two weeks isn’t the same as giving up.” She points out. 

“Sure. But two weeks, turns into a month, turns into a year, and then you’re behind.” Mickey rubs her thin shoulder through the coat. “You're not helping anyone then. Nadia’s still gonna be failing, and then you will be too.” 

Moni sighs. “What do I do then?” She gives up the  _ tough girl _ act and leans her head onto Mickey’s shoulder.

“You could tutor her or something.” Mickey suggests, resting his chin on the top of her head. The darkness has started to set in while they’ve been talking, and now the street lamps are blinking on, even the cracked ones. “That’s what eggheads like you are supposed to do right?” He teases, squeezing her arm and rocking her slightly, earning a giggle in return. “Seriously, though, invite her over a couple times a week and help her out. Might not stop her from getting picked on but… maybe I can teach her some shit that’ll help her out with that too.” He winks mischievously. Ian definitely wouldn’t like the sound of him offering to teach their daughter’s friend how to defend herself, but it didn’t really matter at the moment. It makes Moni smile, and that’s what Mickey counts as a victory. 

As quickly as the smile appears, it just as soon drops from her face. “Dad said Nadia’s not allowed over anymore,” she mumbles. 

Mickey shrugs. “That’s cuz dad doesn’t know the whole story. I’m sure we can get him to change his mind.” He stretches his arms out and grunts, planting his hand on the top of his daughter's head and pretending to use her to hoist himself up off of the ground. “Now can we please go the fuck home? Dunno if you noticed, but we brought two big ass buckets of fried chicken home with us earlier, and Yev already took one of ‘em into his room. We better get back before he goes back for the other one.” 

Moni nods slowly and picks herself up, sliding her arms into the sleeves of her coat and zipping it up all the way to her chin. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go.” She concedes, and Mickey puts a hand on her back as she descends the stairs. And he can’t help but be so fucking proud of her, because she’s a better person then he ever even thought he was capable of raising, even though he knows it has nearly nothing to do with him and everything to do with her. 

“You know that whatever goes down, you do gotta go back to school, right.” Mickey confirms as they stroll down the sidewalk. 

Moni kicks at a pile of snow, watching it fly. “Yeah, I know.” She huffs.

Mickey smirks and reaches out, pulling a blond curl away from her forehead and tucking it behind her ear. 

“You know your dad and I fuckin’ love you, right?” Mickey murmurs. 

Moni doesn’t look at him, but he can see the corners of her mouth curl up into a smile. 

“Yeah Pops. I know.” 

They’re barely through the front door before Ian is all over Moni, scooping her into his tight embrace and lifting his daughter clear off the ground. When he finally puts her down, he cups either side of her face in his large hands, warming up her freezing cheeks and chin. 

“I’m sorry, alright?” Ian says sincerely, he looks his daughter right in the eyes and makes sure she hears him. “I was an asshole for treating you like a criminal over this. That’s not how I shoulda handled it.” He doesn’t know what else to say, so he pulls her in again for another hug, and this time Moni relaxes in his arms and hugs him back. 

“‘S okay Dad. Pops and I talked about it. I’m not gonna skip anymore.” She explains, her words muffled against Ian’s shoulder. 

“That’s not the point,” Ian shakes his head and holds her tighter. “I mean, it is the point, but- I’m just tryna say we can figure this shit out together- okay?” 

Moni nods and just let’s her dad hug her, and they both get what they need from it in the end. 

Mickey closes the door and hangs up his coat, watching his husband have his moment with their daughter. 

Sure, they’re not perfect parents. Never have been. Never claimed to be. 

But as he watches Ian curl himself around her, squeezing the air from her lungs as he savors the moment, Mickey knows they’ve sure as hell done  _ something _ right. 

[](https://ibb.co/ww733CB)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments always appreciated <3


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